


Tied Like Flynn

by Buntheridon



Series: Tripping on Azerite [6]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Arcane Spell Contraception, BfA, Blowjobs, Double Penetration in Two Holes, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Friends With Smut, Funny, I assume it's light you tell me I have no idea, I mean the Admiralty is in trouble with heroes like these, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, M/M, M/M oral sex, Mage Player OC, Multi, POV Second Person, PWP, Penis Basically In Everything, Rusty Iron Shackles, Safeword Use, Subspace reached, They Basically Go To Places And Bang, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex, Voice Kink, World of Warcraft: Battle for Azeroth, barely following orders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 09:34:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18635479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buntheridon/pseuds/Buntheridon
Summary: Threesome shenanigans continue! I forget which patch this should be at but Ashvane has just been set free and you three go investigate the Tol Dagor prison. You are a night elf mage player character, but the elvishness isn't so emphasized so you can imagine any race really.Mind the tags (I don't mean the ones that try to be funny but the warnings).





	Tied Like Flynn

 

“This is preposterous. Doesn’t the Horde have enough of their own villains, why do they need to go about releasing ours?”

“Indeed a good question, champion. Another very good one is: ‘Why in the name of Light did I agree to come back here when I’ve broken free once?’”

“At least this time we’re pretending to be their superiors, not prisoners. It was horrible to be locked up in here, thank you again for helping me out, Flynn.”

“Just doing my duty, ma’am, then and now.” He bows to you grinning. The small dock at Tol Dagor prison island is far enough from the structure and the guards that you can still goof around. You’ve found signs that the Horde group had been there and boarded a vessel of some sort.

“We should get going. Keep the disguises straight and let me lead”, Stormwind Intelligence leader Master Mathias Shaw says in an authoritative tone that sets pleasurable ripples through you.

“Yes, _sire”_ , you salute and adjust your hat. You’ve had to use a spell to make yourself look more Kul Tiran than Darnassian and it makes you feel uncomfortable. You hope Lady Proudmoore’s glyph is a strong one, the prison itself has several magic detectors. Both Flynn and Shaw are wearing a sort of military helmet that reveals only their noses and eyes. And the moustaches. Cannot forget the moustaches. It’s going to be you doing all the running and dirty work again, isn’t it? They won’t see anything with those on.

The Lord Admiral might have forgotten your past misbehaviour but you’re not risking it - Shaw had the freedom to recruit anyone for this trip and the three of you kind of didn’t report that _you_ were the third one.

This official inspection wouldn’t need to be concealed and disguised like this if some of the guards and possibly their superiors weren’t under suspicion of still harboring secret loyalty to the Ashvane Company. The report said a small group of Horde officials pretending to be Kul Tiran - about the same way you are doing now - entered the building on the pretense of bringing in Rexxar, the half-ogre orc who is accused of killing the previous Lord Admiral. Lady Priscilla Ashvane was freed alongside some random prisoners. They had detonated the sewers and some walls on their way out. Warden Amical was killed. The whole business must be more complicated than that, but you’re not to go into politics but obey your bosses.

This time though the surprise visitors have a sealed and signed letter from Lord Admiral herself and the guards at the door let you in without question. You’ve picked a day when part of the prison is under renovation - or to be cleared for renovation, after your inspection is done. That particular part of the building, the lowest level, was where the escape took place.

“Is the area in question undisturbed, sealed and cleared of all personnel and prisoners?” Shaw asks with a demanding deep voice. The officer in charge reacts to it by saluting fast, you by feeling your walls throb. Yeah, business as usual. It’s been a week already.

“Yes, sir, they are, sir! We emptied the cells a day after the break-in. Some inmates got off but most of them were caught except that one eaten by a krolusk.”

“Right. At ease, good man. We’ll be inspecting the whole floor thoroughly. You will make sure no-one bothers us until we are ready. Is that understood?”

“Perfectly, sir!” The officer salutes again, this time realizing he’s overdoing it and briefly looks at his own hand, baffled. That’s the magic of dominating voice, you muse. He hands over a set of keys and Shaw nods Flynn to take them. The three of you walk down the stairs and corridors through the two upper levels of the huge building. There is shouting, sounds of fighting and banging of metal at you when you go past the cells. A wide wooden door to the lowest level is already open, showing a gloomy and dimly lit staircase.

“You there. Get us some lanterns down here. What is with this level of disorganization?” The young guard in question goes stiff, blushes and runs up to do as he’s told. You snigger.

“What is it, _officer?_ Something funny?” Shaw’s tone only deepens and your nethers throb like you were a lovelorn fool. Which you might just be. Or something of the sort. You glance at Flynn and see from the crack of his helm he’s amused as well. You nod at him, winking.

“No, sir, nothing at all. Just noting how eager they all are to _...serve_ you.”

“Hmpf. Good to see you concentrating on the task at hand.”

“Yes, sire, all my focus is on you!” Flynn bursts into laughter at your mock imitation of the poor officer back there.

“Behave”, Shaw murmurs and you see a smile yanking his lip. The lanterns are delivered and you descend into the lowest level locking the huge door behind you. Looking at all the shackles and some benches with equipment more suitable for Scarlet Onslaught dungeons you wonder if this place was actually used for torture.

“Look at all these toys. You think they hid the anatomically accurate bits already?”

“You find cheer even in suffering, captain. I’m not sure that’s a praiseworthy feature in a man.”

“On the contrary, Master Shaw. I’m trying to lighten up the gloomy mood here. If you had forgotten, me and the emissary have been here in chains.”

“We were only behind bars, really.”

“Ssshh, don’t spoil my dramatic moment.”

“Right. Fairwind, you take the northern end; champion, to the east. I’ll look into these cells. Meet at the sewers opening there.” He takes off the helmet and the other man follows lead.

“How the heck you know compass points while inside here?” Flynn fumbles his jacket pockets and checks his nautical compass with emphasized comical care.

“Yeah, he really does. I’m blown away.” He cocks an eyebrow at Shaw with admiration and his usual flirt, wiggling them both at you when you look. You try not to laugh. He’s so endearing, the bugger.

“Sometimes I wish you were. Now get to work.”

Combing the whole level thoroughly you find traces of bombs and a whole lot of Azerite, which isn’t a surprise, and the others confirm about the same what has been told already. Ashvane’s prison door was opened with its own key, no signs of break-in or force in the bars. You and the spymaster meet at the X mark.

“All done here? Let’s move ahead through the opening and check their tracks.” He almost heads out already when Flynn shouts from a cell next to the one where Ashvane was held.

“You’ve got to see this, both of you!” He slips back into the cell and the two of you head back there.

“I’m sure I didn’t miss anything”, Shaw mumbles.

“You most assuredly never do…  Sir.”

You enter the cell and Flynn grins, pointing at the far end of the cubicle towards the corner in the ceiling next to the small window. You walk past a bench with shackles hanging from the ceiling and two on the floor for ankles, and a second pair of cuffs and chains on the wall, clearly designed for someone to be standing up in chains.

“Check it out, my eyes are better than both of yours in _some_ things.” He sounds excited and proud and you’re curious. As you follow the assassin towards the corner a small gut feeling alarms you to look behind you. Flynn is locking the cell door from inside and flashes you a grin, silencing finger on his lips. Oh no. _Oh, no._ Shaw will explode, and it might just be that not in the nice, pulsing, sticky way.

“Master Shaw, how do you like this particular cell?”

”Hmh?”

“I mean… if you had to spend some time in here...?” You dispel the mask and cast a Frost spell on yourself to soothe your nerves as you hear the jingle of a certain set of keys falling on the stone floor somewhere behind the thick door. Shaw spins around abruptly to see your and Flynn’s cowering silly grins.

“Oops?”

“FLYNN!” The rogue in question isn’t fazed at all.

“Our mutual friend here told me about the bets you lost, and since I know you well enough to be sure you’d dodge and vanish all over the isles until we’d given up on collecting the payment…”

“You _didn’t_ just lock us in a cell inside a place where we cannot trust all the personnel?” Shaw’s voice is a low rumble of distant thunder, and it’s going to flash lightning soon. He marches to Flynn who shrugs smiling.

“They won’t enter this floor in hours, your authority made sure of that. We have a portal master with us. Relax, sailor.” He takes off his Kul Tiran officer’s coat and underneath he has an off-white swashbuckler’s shirt with ruffles on the wrists and an already half open neckline. The spymaster curbs most of his anger admirably, clenching his fists for a moment.

“I’m so fed up with your tricks, you aptly named scoundrel. You should put your responsibilities first but I guess that’s unthinkable to ask of you.” Turning towards you his stern look doesn’t soften one bit. ”And you, emissary of the Alliance, I expected more sense from you.”

”Hey, I had no idea about this - sorry Flynn, I know you meant well, kind of - this was all his design.” You wink at the captain behind Shaw. ”If the lock is too difficult I can make a portal to Boralus.” Your shoulders sack just a bit and you realize you were already kind of excited about this very different stay in the prison.

 _”No.”_ The master assassin’s voice takes a cadence your insides recognize faster than your conscious mind. He places his helmet on a bench and addresses Flynn.

”Since we are at a facility with equipment intended for _punishment,_ I shall use it to teach you what you clearly need to be taught - discipline.”

”Oooh, I can’t wait --” Shaw’s hand is quick to grip his jaw and prevent any further quips.

”We’ll start with not talking unless expressly given permission. Is this somehow a new concept to you in the chain of command, captain?” Shaw speaks in a low, purring, authoritative tone that shuts you up even when it’s not aimed at you. You watch the two gorgeous men locking gazes and feel a certain fluttering in your stomach. Flynn nods, then thinks again and shakes his head. Shaw bares his teeth.

 _”Good._ Champion!”

”Sir!” You stand at attention like an gnomish automaton. What the -? Do rogues have some sort of deep mind-controlling magic you’ve been unaware of?

”Cuff Captain Fairwind with those shackles on your left.”

”Oh.”

”Oh!” Flynn grins in the other rogue’s face-grip.

”You both are still speaking.”

You step towards the wall and take one of the upper shackles in your hands. They’re rusty and don’t feel very comfortable. Shaw walks Flynn to you and supervises when you click the cuffs on his right wrist, leaving the shirt ruffles as padding between the metal and his skin. The bugger is still grinning and you see a very rare spawn of a blush on his cheeks. Well, well! You pick the other cuff from the floor and he extends his left hand eagerly. The lock clicks shut around his wrist. You hope the key chain currently a stone’s throw away from your location indeed has the shackle master key in it as well. Otherwise you’d have an interesting time explaining your method of investigation to the new warden.

You dismiss the only reasonable thought that says your reputation with Proudmoore Admiralty would go below frozen if found out fooling around in a prison.

Shaw disrobes the masquerading Kul Tiran jacket and nods.

”Good. Since you wisely and with foresight locked us out of reach of the - what did you call them? - _toys,_ I shall have to pick this lock and it’ll take a long time. How are you going to entertain the innocent victim of your trick, Fairwind?”

”I propose she should be shackled as well, _sir!”_

”Hey!?”

”And how do you suppose you’ll manage that while I’m here undoing your misdeeds?” The spymaster is doing something intricate to the door with the lockpicking tools. You watch his toned behind and purr under your breath. Flynn hears that and chuckles seeing your gaze.

 _”Oh, I agree with you there”,_ he whispers and you share a grin. Out loud he continues the play.

”She’s an independent person. I’m sure our hero can cuff herself.”

”Hah! Don’t drag me into your problems… _sweetheart.”_ He’s standing in a relaxed posture, chains hanging between his wrists and the wall. An appetizing bulge is visible through his leather pants and your bits react to the sight longingly.

”Satisfying as it might be to see both of you incapacitated, our champion seems to deny any part in this, captain. Though after the reception held in honor of the fighters of Dazar’alor I am now capable of believing almost _anything_ nefarious of her.”

You’re still standing in the middle of the cell. Now you take a step towards the rogue boss.

_”No.”_

”I’m the wicked one, remember? What if you tasked me to ...entertain myself disciplining the bugger there?” You smile so sweetly Master Shaw laughs despite his partly real annoyance.

”I have thorough knowledge that it isn’t your inclination, hero.” The small ripples caused by his words that go through you prove his point in a perfect way. You remember the day at Arathi when he found out about that. _Heavens._ He glances at Flynn and lowers his voice to a husky caress.

 _”He_ won’t dangle there long, I can promise you that.” You close your eyes to withstand the wave of arousal.

”What are you plotting there, you mutinous lot? How ’bout either make good of your threats or let me out of these?”

”Fine. I’m almost done here. Go undress him. _No touching.”_

”Oh.” You walk to the shackled ex-smuggler - in your head you call him _snuggler_ and giggle to yourself. You feign a serious tone and salute.

”Captain, sir, I’m to release you of your garments momentarily.” You sneak your hands on the laces of the tad too flashy shirt and pull them loose.

”Just his pants will do”, you hear Shaw call out when the lock clicks in a satisfying way and he’s out the door.

”I’m not sure whether that’s frightening or titillating”, Flynn jests as you obey and open his trousers, your face very close to his. Now that it’s forbidden the thought of kissing him tempts you more than it usually does, which is a lot. That smirk deserves to be wiped off with a hungry mouth. But alas, you are a good girl and do not. That doesn’t mean you don’t hover just an inch off those beautiful lips of his. When you push his leather pants down from his bum - just accidentally brushing over it, swear to Loa! - revealing the erect member it’s already weeping in anticipation. Kneeling in front of him to get the pant legs off you smile impishly inches away from it, lick your lips slowly and watch it twitch.

_“Oh, you tease.”_

“Who, me?”

The spymaster returns with loot. You both stare at him.

“They _had_ anatomically accurate toys?”

“Mmmmm no. But they had these.” He shows a pair of leather collars with metal rings on them and a wooden cane that has an iron hook in the end. You’d assume that’s some nautical equipment but clearly there are other uses as your arousal grows directly proportional to the satisfied look on Shaw’s face. You shudder to think what has been going on in this prison. He hands you the collars.

“Put this on him. The other one is for you.”

“How is it that you’re willing to play now but a moment ago - “

“I think I gave you an order, _officer.”_ You know you’ll be disciplined for that and your score is rising with every bit of disobedience. How delicious.

You put the collar on the captain and fumble slowly with the clasps so that his face has time to rest buried between your breasts. He breathes in with a long happy moan and you giggle. The two of you become like two mischievous brats when you want to get Master Mathias riled up. You try to collar yourself but it’s a bit difficult. You raise your hand like in a magister’s classroom.

“Permission to ask for assistance?”

“Come here.” The assassin’s command is also a claim - a show of hierarchy, in a way. When it’s him collaring you he claims you _his,_ at least for the duration of the game, and you love the notion. He makes quick work of it, fingertips sliding on your skin making you yearn more.

“I believe there’s something you’ve wanted to witness since the first time we ...met. I need to confirm the captain’s consent in the matter, although I have enough circumstantial evidence indicating he might be very willing indeed.” He walks to Flynn and after giving him a once over Shaw hooks the cane on a ring in the captain’s collar and you realize what it is - not a leash but like a cattle prod, in a way. With a swift movement of the stick the spymaster forces Flynn to kneel in front of him, the shackle chains yanking his hands halfway behind him.

_“Oh.”_

If you had to try and be bossy like that you’d end up giggling and feeling ridiculous but Mathias Shaw seems to be in his element with no shame or hesitation. Your loins burn with want.

”With the burden of responsibility and leadership of your SI:7 one would think you’d want something entirely different in your spare time. ...Sir.”

”Technically we’re still at work - just like you prefer it, eh, champion?”

”You know what I mean.”

”I’ll let you both in on a secret. I do what I love and what I’m good at. I don’t need to turn this off in my… spare time. It’s what I enjoy.” And the deep baritone laced with treacle makes both you and the man kneeling in front of him shiver.

“Captain?” Shaw cocks his head slightly, looking at his subordinate from above. You see the color on Flynn’s cheeks and an unexpected jealousy pinches you in the guts. The two men look stunning together and they have barely begun. What if they enjoy each other enough to forget you? Damn, that would be the _hottest_ way of getting dumped. You decide you will endure it as long as you get to watch.

“I’d love to, sir, but I’m a bit tied up at the moment.”

“The part of your body that you otherwise overuse and abuse the most will be sufficient.”

Flynn grins and cranes his neck, taking the master assassin’s trouser laces between his teeth and pulling them open with a few fumbling efforts. Cheeks burning, core throbbing and forgetting to breathe you watch the show in front of you. Shaw keeps the cane loosely in his hand not really needing to further encourage the omnisexual sailor who tries to pull the tight leather pants downwards with his teeth but it’s useless.

“Permission for assistance?” he echoes you with a grin. Shaw nods, eyes on his. You tiptoe behind him and gently lower the trousers off revealing his wonderful firm ass to you and his full erection to Flynn. _Oh, he has enjoyed this alright._ Stepping back you stare at the kneeling captain who with no reluctance whatsoever tilts his head sideways and kisses openmouthed the root of the other man’s cock, nipping along with his lips until he’s at the tip. He looks up through his lashes like the shameless flirt he is and tongue in front tastes the head, sucks lightly, lets it push into his mouth.

A jolt of almost violent lust hits you in the loins and a whine escapes between your lips. Your thighs are slippery as you try to keep standing upright and watch your lovers without trembling.

“Is this too much for you, champion?” asks the one who doesn’t have his mouth full of thick living meat.

“Too little, more like”, you rasp, breathing heavily.

“You’ll soon get your _fill,_ isn’t that so, captain?” Captain Fairwind nods and grunts _umh hum_ while sliding his wet mouth greedily on the spymaster's shaft, taking it deep until the hilt, glorious red moustaches nearly brushing the curly dark hair there. His eyes are hooded and his rock hard erection bobs between his thighs.

“Champion. You see those shackles hanging from the ceiling there?” You know what’s coming and your knees are about to buckle. A jolly good thing then to have some support from the prison equipment.

“Yes?”

“Put them on.” You’d be completely at their mercy, doubtless that you are of them having plenty of it for you. Once you’ve clicked them around your wrists and your hands are locked above your head a sort of calm settles over you like mist. A calm that’s throbbing in rhythm with your heart and your quim. Shaw pulls out from the captain’s mouth who almost follows after it, exhaling, a drop of spit falling over his chin past the goatee. The _leader,_ because that’s what he is in so many ways, detaches the cane from his collar, dropping it to the floor. Flynn looks flushed and almost desolate left there in his shackles, lips gleaming and the long red ponytail a bit messy. That’s really a sight to see, rare and beautiful as it is.

Master Shaw inspects your cuffs. “Can you put your weight on them, will they chafe?” You grip the rusty chain above them and lift your feet up, dangling in the air.

“It’s bearable, for a short while.”

“Good.” He opens your light cloth pants - no robe this time, it wouldn’t have suited the role you were playing at the door and now it’s enabling this role very well - and pulls them down with the underwear clinging along, sticky. You hear him inhale your scent and hum in a sort of purring way when he pulls your boots off. You are turned around facing your comrade in shackles and the rogue master moves behind you.

“Now, hero”, and his quiet voice is like dripping sexy chocolate sauce on your senses, “there’s a permission I need to get from you this time. Although, again, I’ve _spied_ enough to guess you probably wouldn’t oppose the idea, especially since you seem to enjoy both our company so much and you’ve gone to lengths to get us all together… all _three_ of us.” His hands slide gently over your hips, over your bum and then his fingers sneak between your thighs and dip between your nether lips from behind. You take a wider stance and tilt your hips back. Flynn watches you with a hungry look, watches as Mathias pushes three fingers into your dripping, throbbing warmth. He pulls them out after a moment and the puzzle pieces snap in place when he brushes the slicked fingers over your anal entrance. _The three of us._ He presses one in and you yield.

_“Elune..! Ash karath!”_

“Good girl. You wanted to be filled.” He sinks his finger deeper steadily, with care, listening and noting all your signs. Slowly he stretches you for the daunting promise he just gave.

 _“Karazhan.”_ The safeword stops him immediately. He carefully eases his finger out. You explain before he thinks you’re upset. “That’s not going to suffice as… lubricant. May I use an Arcane spell I know?”

“Certainly. Please do.” Shaw’s voice is gentle, showing his concern for you. A faint purple light crackles between your fingertips up in the shackles and you feel a tingling relaxation in the targeted muscles. You turn your head to the captain and grin.

“You want a dose too?”

“I… actually have some suitable oil in my jacket pocket. For ...reasons. You’re free to utilize it.” Mathias retrieves the small bottle from the pile of clothes.

“Always come prepared is what I say”, Flynn explains.

You chuckle at the silly darling redhead. “I’ve never heard you say that. Cartloads of other things but never that.”

“I might have picked that up recently.”

The spymaster’s fingers return to your gluteal cleft, oiled and wonderfully slick. “Shall I continue, champion?”

“Yes, gods, _yes…”_

Unbelievable as it seems, you feel him add another finger in easily. You’re teetering close to something like a row of orgasms on the starting line all ready to bolt as soon as the whistle sounds - and it never does. But they’re all there, set and fidgety and full of vigor. You groan and whine and gasp with every centimeter breached, dangling from the shackles, unable to help yourself. And even if your fingers were free you wouldn’t, as per your agreement.

Flynn’s eyes are glued to you and his cock twitches, tip gleaming with precum. He stands up and takes a step back, giving his hands free movement when the chains slacken.

“Did I give you permission to move, _sailor?”_ That makes him groan in a very, _very_ frustrated way.

“No sir, I’m just dying here is all. Do carry on.”

“Emissary, is it time to release Captain Fairwind from his bonds?”

 _“Yes. ...sir.”_ You’re feeling hazy and something akin to feverish, not sure if your words came out of your mouth or whether you just imagined them. You feel the slick fingers slide out of your back entrance and you moan, of loss or some other sensation.

The spymaster unshackles the other who tosses the rest of his clothes on the bench. The two beautiful, moustached, fully prepared rogues walk to you, placing you between them. You feel two pairs of hands roam your skin, Flynn opening your tunic gently releasing your breasts that crave for his touches. He kisses your lips uncaring of Shaw’s possible opinion on the chain of command and it feels like heaven, his tongue his heat his taste.

 _“You alright, mate?”_ The chosen term for you, very apt in all its meanings, makes you chuckle. You nod, smiling.

And then the rogue in charge starts nudging himself into you from behind, oiled and hard and determined. The stretch is so much more than the fingers and he’s very slow, careful. Your heart races as you gasp your way into a pleasure-induced trance.

“Captain.” His commanding grunt reveals just how enormously he enjoys the situation. Shaw’s grip on your hips, Flynn’s hands caress down the sides of your thighs and lifts the left one up on the side of his hip. He presses himself against you, cooing something unintelligible which you answer with as foreign a tongue as well. His cock finds its way into your gate even in the restricted position and slides deliciously in escorted by your moans of fulfilment. And you mean fulfilment in every possible sense of the word. Behind you Shaw pushes deeper and you jolt.

“Far enough?” His facial hair tickles your earlobe.

“Yeah.” He nods and stays there, letting you get accustomed to the overwhelming sensation. Flynn rocks slowly inside you and it feels somehow tighter for the obvious spatial reasons.

“Damn, I can feel you through her, mate. I mean, if you wanted _a duel_ with me there are less tricky ways.”

“Oh, get a cell, you two!” You laugh, gasping. They both move inside you slowly and it’s near intolerable how you need to come, how on edge them filling you brings you. A low groan starts in your throat and you start rocking yourself against Flynn, trying to find friction on your clitoris. But your wiggling only makes you feel Shaw in you even better.

“Ah - Elune help me - please - _please_ will you - “

The spymaster finds your neck through your hair and nips at the sensitive crook with his teeth. His hands slide up your sides, cupping your breasts gently, finding the erect nipples. “Captain, if you’d be so kind - help our friend here.”

“With pleasure.”

Flynn reaches between the two of you above your joined flesh and presses his thumb down on your clit, slippery in your fluids. You close your eyes and feel only the throbbing of your walls, _all_ your walls, and a blinding white light coursing through you. Flynn thrusts faster, Shaw keeps a steady, short pace and the mismatch rocks you in a hypnotic ecstasy.

“Try not to release yourself yet, captain.”

“You are not seriously -”

“I’ll be more lenient given the… special circumstances but I believe our mutual friend here would appreciate us lasting through all her climaxes.” His husky voice is all you needed to finish the quest.

“What do you say - _ughh_ \- hero, will you - “ But you are gone already, soaring in a bliss so complete it nears pain, little stars flashing under your closed eyelids, moaning with abandon. You feel so perfectly filled, wrapped up between the masculine scent of their skin and fresh sweat, the strong arms holding you from both sides. Pulsating against both thick rods you are aware it might be impossible to hold back as the bearer of either said rod. Flynn whines and buries himself in you.

“Oh, _Light,_ I can’t - just whip me for this - “ He searches your lips frantically and kisses you deep, moaning while pulsing inside you. Your tongue and lips answer his in hunger. Your wrists tug against the cold, harsh iron above your head but you only briefly register it. Shaw grunts.

“You bet I will. Stay in.” He grabs your waist with one hand and slips the other around you, caressing your belly with circular motions, sliding slowly in your tender anus. The pressure and the aching stretch combined with the gentle soothing touch that brushes over your clit on every passing surprises you by starting a new rise towards another orgasm, a softer, wider one that seems to begin from your thighs and expand to the rest of your center, reaching your extremities with electric tingling. Shaw’s fingers rubbing your nub keep the throbs going and going and he must be touching Flynn’s cock right there as a side effect.

Your wails echo from the empty cell walls and finally Mathias lets himself join you in the sweet release. He indulges you by letting you hear his hoarse moans by your ear. Getting the master assassin to lose composure - yeah, worth every bruise on your wrists.

Flynn rocks his still swollen manhood inside you, his juices running along the insides of your thighs. “You are beautiful, luv, so beautiful when you come”, he whispers on your lips.

“Oh, _stars”,_ you sigh, laughter bubbling in your chest. The spymaster, having had you very much from behind like his class description dictates, eases himself out with care. You yelp at the feel of his seed leaking out after. Flynn pulls out as well, remembering your bound position. He picks up the keyring and opens your shackles, taking your right wrist in his hands and massaging up your arm. Shaw does the same with the left one. Oh, these wonderful, caring gentlemen, what on Azeroth did you do before you met them?

“See a healer when we get back.” You nod, purring in contentment.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if someone came through that door now? Like, say, the Lord Adm---”

“I did lock the door.”

“But there’s a window. How about we scram, just to be sure? It’s your reputation, Shaw.” Flynn is grinning happily and you can see he wouldn’t care if the whole Admiralty popped in for a nice visit.

“Didn’t we have some work left - “ you start but then you all freeze as sure enough there are voices outside the thick cell door. Shaw groans.

 _“Not again!”_ He whispers, frustrated but on the brink of laughter nonetheless.

_“I freely admit it was my fault!”_

_“You just want him to whip you, captain Omnivore.”_

_“No time to dress. Make the portal or he flips.”_ The men collect the scattered clothes and weapons, Flynn hands you yours.

 _“Thank you, darling,”_ you whisper as you quickly cast the cleaning spell on all three of you and start drawing the powers of the Arcane for the first portal that comes to mind.

Too late you realize a more remote location than the middle of Boralus Harbor would have been better for appearing naked and adorned with slave leather collars.

The invisibility spells come in handy, again.

 

 


End file.
